Strawberry Moon
by epopolow
Summary: "Ah, Akutagawa-kun, what a beautiful night to die, huh?" his words were slurred- alcohol clung to his breath and ghosted like a butterfly tantalizingly past Akutagawa's ear.


He had finished his dango, peacefully, quietly, and was just about to flag down the young waiter boy for another, when a sound akin to knives screeching on a window combined with the soothing melody of a violin's symphony.

Familiar laughter with an edge of seriousness, a teasing tinge, and that all-too-well groveling whine at the end was enough to make Akutagwa crush the glass in his right hand. Which he did, the shadowy threads of Rashomon wrapped around his delicate skin as the shot-glass shattered, honey-hued scotch formed a tiny puddle on the table booth, and the mafia executive tried his damnest to remain calm, unseen, stifle a series of irritable coughs with his free palm.

The noise of the glass breaking was unnoticed as pumping rock music blasted through the bar, drowned out by the incessant bickering of its full Friday night regulars. A passing waitress chanced a glimpse at the mess but offered no help, her knees wobbling in terror as she hurried by without catching Akutagawa's murderous glare as his dull gaze fixated through the crowd of squirming bodies to the bar itself, where a certain caramel-haired, chocolate-eyed man sat hunched over, clearly flirting with the bartender, a young woman with an impressive bust and long golden ringlet that swept past her waist.

"It breaks my heart to see such a lovely lady as yourself lowering your standards to such a demanding job every night," his voice was clear and loud as a bell to his former trainee. "Why not do something amazing, something that'll have your memory preserved far longer and infamous than working here…" he trailed off and clasped her hands. His eyes literally sparkled with hope. "Would you give me the honor, no, the privilege, of committing a double suicide with you?"

Standing up and pushing the table away from his person, Akutagawa angrily stomped through the thick stream of drunken people, made his way to the one and only Dazai Osumasu, and yanked him up forcefully by the arm. Dazai seemed momentarily dazed, as if under some kind of enchantment, as his former trainee dragged him out of the safe confines of the bar. The bartender extended a useless hand as the mafia executive pulled the man outside and to the wet brick side of the building slick with rain.

Thunder pounded in the distance as the two men quickly became soaked with rain.

Dazia's camel colored trench coat sagged as it wetted, and so did Akutagawa's, albeit black with a slight hint of a scarlet hem.

Akutagawa was ruthless as he shoved Dazai against the wall grated his body side to side like a loaf of cheese, and panted heavily as the other man responded with a very small, very light widening of the eyes, lips forming an "O" as the dark eyed, dark-dressed man ground him against the slick bricks, ignored his grunts of pain and obvious discomfort as this was- it certainly was—Daziai, for Christ's sake—and Dazai was a very, very, very hard nut to crack.

His former master slumped, head hanging low as rain dripped in thick, globular, tears from his masculine chin, body sagging, his weight almost pulling his late student along had Akutagawa not been paying the utmost attention, senses trained like a hawk onto those of his beloved mentor.

Dazai began to speak when the black threads of Rashomon bound his lips, wrists, waist, and ankles, tightly together as the rain danced down in somnolent torrents.

Akutagawa coughed into his left hand and stared, puzzled, at Dazai's bound body. Shouldn't Rashomon not be working? At least, not when Dazai, the man who had the anti-ability "No Longer Human" was wide awake and in the clutches of being hurt?

"Why isn't Rashomon…?- the mafia executive began to question then paused.

Ah, that was why. It had to be why, right? His former superior, a man of profound intellect and skill, at the highest of mercy to his own tiny cub now grown fully into an adult lion?

Dazai manically chuckled through the gag of Rashomon and Akutagawa released his ability to more accurately hear what Dazai had to say, the man that had inspired, stolen, and broken his heart into a million unrecognizable pieces, in a matter of years, only to reappear soon after as the main enemy, a _person_ to be disposed of?

"Ah, Akutagawa-kun, what a beautiful night to die, huh?" his words were slurred- alcohol clung to his breath and ghosted like a butterfly tantalizingly past Akutagawa's ear.

He shivered.

The moon was a full, rich blood-red, an occurrence that only happened once every seventy-two years or something. It was beautiful, unmarred by any wisps of clouds, strawberry light gorgeously illuminating the dark sky.

Akutagawa's breath was hot in Dazai's ear, and the older man cringed at the unlikely contact. "You're not going to die tonight, Dazai-san." He helped the other man from crumpling to the ground in intoxication. "Why is my… why is Rashomom working on you?" he hissed.

Dazai shrugged languidly. "Oh, I guess I didn't tell you, did I, A-ku-ta-ga-wa-chan 3." His gaze intensely searched the mafia executive's, dipped into it, swam interrogatingly in those cold, black orbs as if they were water from the river Styx.

Akutagawa growled and stopped himself from quaking in frustration, "What didn't you tell me? And what are you doing here, this late at night flirting with a woman way below your caliber?"

Dazai gave him a lazy smirk. "Do I have to tell you everything, Akutagawa-chan? I left because I thought you were more than ready to inherit my position, but if you're so fixated on little 'ole me-

Before he could finish Akutagawa had yanked him toward himself by the end of his off-white cravat, pressed the palm of his right hand hard to the back of Dazai's head, the other coiled around his waist as their lips met in forced fervor, shackled passion, and years of desperate yearning, of aggravated remorse…

To Akutagawa's surprise, his mentor returned the kiss, greedily, hungrily… his hot tongue had slipped inside his mouth and explored him fully, deeply, swiped lavishly against his teeth as their lips remained tightly locked. The young executive moaned in pleasure as Dazai reveled inside him, devoured those thin, pale lips, slid a palm along the line of his smooth back and cupped his ass with a subtle pinch.

Akutagawa couldn't help but moan in arduous pleasure as Dazai lightly stroked his rigid body, fingers as weightless and ghostly like a feather, as they slowly made their way to his front and gently enveloped his stiffened cock.

Dazai's tongue inside him invoked other, more primordial, more beastly desires in the younger man, and Akutagawa raked his hands through the silky texture of those chocolate curls, savored the unique gentleness of Dazai's touch as he continued to explore his helpless body…

Ah, why did it have to rain at such a profound moment? The moon glowed as an ominous strawberry colossus behind the outskirts of the city.

"Why isn't Rasho- my ability being nullified by your "no longer human'?"

Dazai broke the kiss and nuzzled the base of neck, peppered a series of kisses along Akutagawa's pallid neck to leave red marks that would persist for days. "On a rare strawberry moon like this, for some reason my ability is useless."

The former disciple bowed and cringed in his master's arms as the older ma, albeit a few years, devoured and claimed his body, mind, and soul entirely. One hand fisted into the charming black with white tips hair, soft as butter, as the other fondled his rock-hard member, lips crashing onto lips in a wave of animalistic desire.

Akutagawa pushed the traitor away and struggled to regain his footing. He felt as if he were melded into place, his limbs made of gelatin, his mind exploding with years of hidden confessions and love and yearning…

"I just wanted your acceptance…" he began, a lone tear trickling down a cheek. "I just wanted you to recognize me… Dazai-san."

Dazai grinned impishly and said, "I've already accepted you. A long time ago, before I defected to the Armed Detective Agency."

Akutagawa held back a surprised cough as his voice shook, "Just tell me one thig, Dazai-san." His gaze was impenetrable.

"Anything."

"Do you… do you regret taking me in?"

Dazai averted his eyes. "I do..." and snickered at Akutagawa's distraught face and tensed body as if he'd just been hit by a shotgun, "not!"

"Ah… I see." Akutagawa released Rashomon's grip and Dazai landed on his feet like a professional ballerina.

"I'll see you around," he whispered. "Aku-ta-gawa-chan."

And he was gone. Damn that man and his freakishly efficient speed!

Akutagawa sighed and grinned faintly before noticing the striking bulge in his right pocket and saw the days' worth of billing that Dazai had accumulated before he'd even gotten there.


End file.
